


Hands

by Aroihkin



Series: Veilfire Bones [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:16:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3162626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aroihkin/pseuds/Aroihkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan gives Solas a back massage, and gets more than she bargained for out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** [here](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/11864.html?thread=46354264#t46354264).

Alleyana of clan Lavellan leaned her hip against the scaffolding near the entrance of Solas' office, and watched as the scholarly elf drew the basic outline and structure of one of his future paintings on the wall with a bit of charcoal. As tall as his paintings were, it involved a ladder to reach the upper bits, and a great deal of leaning from side to side, and she wasn't surprised to note how stiffly he climbed down off the ladder to move it a few inches to one side.

She continued to watch in silence, a wide mug of pungent tea held between both of her gloved hands, the steam drifting up into her vision and giving the faint lines of Solas' work an almost eerie, dancing quality. Alley raised her tea to blow on the surface, trying to cool it down enough to drink, her gaze never leaving the fascinating lines being sketched out into the huge space.

The warrior hadn't been trying to be sneaky, but she noticed Solas jump when he realized she was there. "Not interrupting, I hope," her voice was gravel and ground glass and hot ash and smoke, and it didn't _feel_ much better than it sounded. That was what the tea was for, however, although it reeked of bitter herbs and tasted even worse. Solas' hatred of tea did not, thankfully, appear to extend to merely being in its presence... although that wasn't to say that Alley had never offered it to him anyway, if just to see the bridge of his nose wrinkle at the idea. She couldn't blame him; this was pretty awful stuff.

Her humor was often so dry that it could be ground into dust to blow away in the wind. Or perhaps thrown into an infuser and brewed into tea. Perhaps that was what _this_ tea was, and why it was so damned bitter. It made perfect sense to her. Such were Alleyana's thoughts as she raised the mug again, this time to take a careful sip. She watched the other elf all the while.

"Of course not, Inquisitor," Solas recovered from his startlement quickly, though Alley was interested to see how his posture shifted, dropping one shoulder a little, holding the little bit of charcoal in _both_ hands before him, so strangely awkward. It reminded her of how he'd stood when they'd first met; _'My name is Solas, if introductions are to be made'_. Though it wasn't quite the same, she noticed, taking another sip of her tea. He was too stiff, too...

"I can't tell if you're awkward, or in pain," she grunted out, "my money is on both."

"A wager I fear you would win," Solas' tone remained light, and Alley wondered how much of his demeanor was him trying to hide said pain. He had a lot of body language patterns she knew well enough.

"Back? Shoulders?" Alleyana un-leaned her hip from the scaffolding and walked forward, "Neck? All of the above?" And still, she watched him as Solas smiled a tight, tense little smile at that final guess, and Alley nodded. "All of the above, then."

"Astute as ever," Solas' gaze softened a bit more as she drew nearer, the warrior taking a final sip of her hot tea before leaving the mug on his desk.

"Clan Lavellan didn't send me to the Conclave to woo and charm," she noted, a touch wry, before growing serious again, "they sent me to observe," and then, she changed topics as sudden as that, "--I can do something about the pain, if you'll let me."

"Not your tea, I would hope," Solas grimaced a little, and Alleyana caught herself smiling just a little at his reaction.

"No," she stifled the expression quickly, of course. "You're safe from that, for now. Come on," the warrior crooked a misshapen finger at him and turned to lead the way over to the plush sofa-bed that sat at the edge of his circular office. Then, without fuss, "Strip to the waist and lay down on your stomach."

"Pardon me?" Solas had followed her over, and she turned to see him staring at her with obvious surprise.

"Unless you're too modest to show me your back," Alleyana prompted, fumbling with the buckles on one of her gauntlets. She gave up and lifted it to her mouth as she usually did, taking the end of a strap between her teeth and freeing up her awkward hand to fuss just with the metal while she pulled. "Don't worry," she added, muffled by her own grip on the leather. "I'm not going to do anything inappropriate to you."

" _That_ is hardly a concern," Solas' gaze drifted down a bit, settling on her armored hands and bared teeth. Alley snorted softly and turned away, suddenly self-conscious of her work-around on the issue of buckles and damaged fingers. Once that gauntlet was off, she set it on his desk, too, and started on the other. Under the armor, her hands were clad in soft, protective leather, but it was always less awkward to get the buckles off with a hand not encased in metal.

She heard cloth whispering over cloth behind her as she finished with the other gauntlet, but didn't turn back around until the creak of the sofa's padding told her he'd put his weight down on it. Of course, that didn't mean he was laying down, and Alley turned to find him sitting instead, watching her intently. She frowned slightly, the expression tugging at scar tissue. "I can't do anything with you sitting," the warrior noted, striding over.

Solas reached out and caught her hands in his, his grip on her gloved fingers surprisingly gentle. Still, Alleyana couldn't help but flinch, just a little, expecting pain. "You told me these were hurt by humans," he said quietly, "may I ask the method?"

"A brick," Alley tugged her hands free, though the back of her mind darkened anyway at the memory, "and a _lot_ of swings. Want to know how many, next?"

"I..." Solas' expression was profoundly sad as he gazed up at her. The warrior found herself frowning again, before lifting one gloved hand to cup his cheek with her crooked and unwieldy fingers, through the leather. It was an extraordinarily awkward gesture, but one she meant, and he held still for it.

"Sorry," she said, low and quiet, "you didn't deserve that. Not at all. Do as I do, and ignore the past. Maybe it'll go away." Not that she was claiming to be very successful at it, but it was a goal to strive for.

"Were that it could be so simple," Solas noted softly. He leaned very slightly -- so slightly, she couldn't be certain she really felt it -- into her gloved touch, his eyes sliding half-shut. Sometimes, Alley wondered how his face would feel to her bare hands, so rarely in contact with anything but the inside of her gloves. Perhaps one day, she would be brave enough to try to find out... if he allowed it. Today, however, wasn't the day to try it.

Instead, Alleyana allowed the gesture to linger for several long moments before she tugged her gloved hand free once more. As before, he didn't resist her retreat. "Lay down so I can help you."

"You do not need to do this, you know," Solas noted, but he stretched out as instructed, face-down on his over-sized sofa, his head turned sharply to one side so he could breathe, and speak. The sofa seat wasn't quite long enough for his frame, so he propped the tops of his feet on the arm, knees slightly bent. "These pains will work themselves out, and they are minor enough."

"Sure, or you'll throw your back out, or tear something, and be fucked up for weeks," Alley climbed onto the sofa as well, noting how he tensed momentarily with surprise when she boldly threw an armored leg over his hips, straddling his backside. She was careful to keep the pointy bits of her remaining armor from pressing into him, the heavy leather coat that was part of her gear draped over the back of his legs behind her. She didn't like to change out of her armor for a variety of reasons, but it rarely got in her way.

"Just try to relax," she grunted, cracking her gloved knuckles, "I'm not awful at this, surprisingly, though it's been a while."

His bare upper torso was about what she'd expected from looking at him normally, even with his many layers of clothing on; strong, with broad shoulders and thick arms; a narrow waist. His skin was just as pale as one might think from his head and hands, and it was dotted with a few old scars here and there, faded with time. Freckles, most just as faded as those scars, danced across his shoulders like stars.

Alley shook herself out of her musings, and started as she'd been taught, splaying her gloved hands out over his upper back, heels angled inward on either side of his spine, and pressed down. This was the reason for straddling him, as she leaned forward over her arms, elbows locked, using her weight bearing down on them to do most of the work. "Exhale," she said when she could feel too much resistance under her palms. "Whenever I press down, exhale. I'll give you the chance to inhale, too."

He obeyed in a slow rush of air, and she pressed in and up and out, just like _so_ , using her weight to add to the force brought to bear, and she felt his back popping between and under her hands. As promised, she backed off again to let him inhale, rocking back onto her shins and shifting her hands up a little before doing it again during another exhale, wringing the breath out of his lungs and earning a tiny, surprised sound from him as his spine continued to align and release pressure under her efforts.

Alleyana kept creeping upward until her gloved fingers curled over the muscles at the sides of his neck, and changed tactics, seeking out knots and twinges and soothing them with old practice. Pressure _here_ made _this_ muscle twinge and then release, and she held the pressure until she was sure it wouldn't come right back again, before backing off slowly. The same was done over here, and there, each at a different angle and depth; the neck was a dangerous spot to do too much with pressure on, but she worked to do just enough before working back down to his shoulders again, and out, gripping and rolling muscle, even as she was privately fascinated that he had so much of it. He wasn't built like the sleepy scholar that he was, to be certain!

"You're really strong for someone who spends so much time conked out," she noted, impressed, before leaning back up a bit to start in on his back again, this time starting lower than before and again pressing and holding and releasing her way up his spine. The cracking was fading out, but still present, and she found two vertebrae out of alignment as she traced his spine, putting the heel of her hand against them and press-twisting down into his back so that they slid back into place, just like _so_.

"You are quite proficient at this," Solas murmured, once she was no longer bearing down on his lungs on each press. Lower, she'd changed tactics to avoid harming his kidneys, thumbs and index fingers touching in a sort of triangle to spread the pressure of her palms out more away from his spine. Out and down, went the pressure.

"Surprised I can do something besides hit things really hard?" Alleyana was amused at that, her rough voice sounding quite wry, "This isn't much different. Just slower. Force, directed differently."

" _Mmn,_ " was Solas' eloquent reply, as she worked her way back up his spine again, this time seeking out little twinges and pressing, rolling out from the center. His eyes were closed, she noticed upon glancing at his face. And his mouth was slightly open, his expression relaxed... was that the slightest flush to his pale skin? The warrior quickly put her attention back onto her work, not wanting to gawk. Having so much tension released was enjoyable, one way or another, so she thought nothing of it.

"It's okay to doze off," Alley offered, fascinated by how his breathing matched her movements without any apparent effort, now, the muscles beneath her gloved hands relaxed and supple as she worked her way back up to his shoulders again on one final pass. "I won't be bothered."

"Nnn," Solas' reply was barely audible, and earned a brief, secret little smile out of the warrior above him. She went ahead and worked her way down one arm, squeezing and rolling the pleasing amount of muscle found there, careful to avoid pressing into bone, down to his lower forearm, his fingers tightening from the pressure against his tendons as she wrung tension out of muscles fatigued by his painting. The same treatment was given to the other arm, and she hesitated at his hands before opting to not attempt them; her damaged fingers were less capable as what she worked with grew thinner. Best to just not try, and so she left his hands at his sides, palms up, and moved to climb off him.

He was apparently still quite awake and aware; Solas twisted onto his side even as she maneuvered her leg, and Alleyana found her head caught in those same hands, her face pulled down -- balance lost! -- and soft lips brushing against hers. Alley's hands braced against the couch, trying not to fall onto him in her heavy and unyielding armor, and she opened her mouth in as much surprise as anything else. The mage didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss accordingly, sucking her bottom lip between his and teasing her with the tip of his tongue.

_Shit,_ he knew what he was doing. Alleyana groaned softly into the kiss as his tongue slipped deeper, exploring... one elbow threatened to buckle... and then suddenly he released her, and there was distance between them again. When had she closed her eyes? She opened them, and took in his flushed face, dilated pupils... and the expression of guilt written as plain as day on his features. "I am so sorry," Solas' words -- gentle -- were felt as sharp as a knife in her gut. Of _course_ he was sorry.

"It's okay," Alley pushed herself up to put more distance between them, and finally got her legs the rest of the way onto one side of the couch. "I won't take it personal." Was her face burning? Probably. Damn everything.

"I... no, that isn't..." Solas stammered after her as she climbed off the couch, and he caught her wrist as she turned to leave. "Please, stay. I did not mean that the way I suspect you think."

The warrior was prepared to pull her wrist away and flee, but those words made her pause, and so she sat down on the edge of the couch and hazarded a glance over at him. "You were caught up in a moment, it's fine."

"I was," Solas agreed, his voice growing quieter, softer, "but not... simply because of the massage."

"Are you trying to suggest you're interested in me?" Alleyana could feel her eyebrows lifting, her tone no different than if she'd asked if he was really going to light himself on fire.

Solas' soft tone took on a tinge of concern, "Is that so difficult to imagine?"

The warrior bit down the first sardonic reply that came to mind, and glanced over at him again. Solas was staring straight at her, brow very slightly furrowed. Alleyana dropped her gaze to his lips, and then away entirely. "That's not an answer, Solas."

"Neither is that," he pointed out, "but to answer your question... perhaps. Although anything between us could be trouble, particularly for you."

"I think I'm past the point of caring about trouble," Alley noted. She meant it to be an allusion to all the _other_ trouble she was in, or had gotten in already, but upon seeing his eyes widen very slightly, she realized how else it could be taken.

She averted her gaze, but let it stand. It wasn't... inaccurate. "It's entirely up to you," she finally added, "I'm not interested in pressuring anyone into anything."

"Of course," the fingers around her wrist tightened momentarily, and then released her. "May I have time to... consider?"

"Take all the time you need," Alleyana stood up again, and went for her gauntlets and cooled tea on his desk, scooping them all up. Gauntlets, tucked into the crook of one elbow. Tea, between both hands again. She didn't trust her grip on anything as small as the _handle_ to a cup. "For now, put your shirts back on and _relax_ for a while, or you'll undo all my work. No more ladders tonight, and no hunching over your desk," she glanced back at him, "I mean it."

"It will be as you say," Solas smiled, "and thank you."

Alley couldn't think of anything to say, feeling quite awkward herself, now. So, she just bowed her head and then turned to go.


End file.
